


Petit Trois

by catboyeren



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: BDSM overtones, Blowjobs, Fluff, M/M, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Orgasm Denial, Threesome - M/M/M, culinary arts, dare i say it? food porn, they're in love...., this takes place in california in case you needed to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catboyeren/pseuds/catboyeren
Summary: At the crowning restaurant of its cozy metropolitan shopping district, the stalwart Chef Erwin and his sous-chef Levi are making a name for themselves as some of the best cooks in town. They're hardworking, experienced, and skilled-- nothing could keep them from making it to the kitchen on time each day and fulfilling their duties. And when they are finally distracted from their work by the bright-eyed Eren Jaeger, a local farmer's son who has just started bringing them their produce in the mornings, it's the last thing they expect.
Relationships: Erwin Smith/Eren Yeager, Levi/Eren Yeager, Levi/Eren Yeager/Erwin Smith, Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 40
Kudos: 296





	1. espresso

The restaurant was always at its most romantic in the morning. Once Christa finished her sheet trays of patê a choux,and pie crust, glistening all the shades of gold beneath their laminate covers, and went home before the line cooks arrived, Erwin would find himself standing at the kitchen door looking in at the morning light, the shining counters-- the day's work uncompleted on a list in the pocket of his crisp whites, all the ingredients waiting, their personalities bated, equipment sanitized and put away patiently standing, winking, permitting use. 

During this time of day, the executive chef of SINA would work in his office, the blinds pulled up high so that when his sous chef Levi arrived, they could confer before the first delivery. It was the first day of the month, which meant that he had to plan the menu for the changing seasons. At SINA, the food was guaranteed farm to table, organic, cooked with love and seasoned with care. They had a rotating menu that changed every two or three months, depending on what the farm provided. And for several years, Erwin had made the bulk of his organic purchases from Shiganshina Farms, a local operation that Erwin's forebears at this location had trusted to no end. 

But the week before, his trusted second-- who was also integral for menu planning-- had found rotten fruit in their produce. In fact, they had also discovered a sizable discrepancy between weight and cost, owing to a decent percentage of SINA's profits. Now, Erwin had been forced to find a new supplier. 

The farm was called Jaeger Grove and although further than Shiganshina, it had a very good reputation. Modern farming techniques, amicable relationships with restaurants, not to mention it was unsubsidized-- giving the Jaegers the freedom to grow whatever they liked for whomever they wanted. Nonetheless, the executive chef had long learned not to trust someone on the basis of what other people said about them. He would wait until he met the proprietor, who had promised to come at eleven that day with perishables to inspect. 

A dark head of hair bobbed above the glass and marble half-walls that divided the kitchen, backroom, and restroom from the customers. The restaurant itself was chic, but not Erwin's favorite part of the building. It had wide gray tiles on the floor and hanging black and white tapestries that depicted old castles, rolling hills, and other medieval imagery, and large metallic bowls with spiky plants taller than Erwin that emitted a dusty, sweet aroma-- one that made the customers exclaim, 'oh, this is a _nice_ place!' 

The dark head turned a corner and Levi came into view. Although the kitchen had a reputation for attracting the tallest and burliest, Levi's height of five feet and three inches had never hindered him. He was an artist with a knife, calm and collected in the face of a rush, unaffected by heat, noise, and the emotional failings that had lead Erwin's previous sous-chefs to their end. 

As he entered the kitchen, Levi tied his snow-white apron tight around his waist. He cut a fine figure in his uniform, something Erwin could not help but notice during these still, sweet hours of the empty kitchen. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms accustomed to lifting, kneading, rolling, whisking, and cutting, as well as his elaborate tattoo sleeves; his legs, a mystery in his black trousers, moved with the grace of a dancer, and his shoulders! They were a perfect triangle filling out his jacket, the apex somewhere beneath the ends of his apron. 

Erwin was not unattractive in his whites either. True, he matched the fit and character of most chefs: larger than life, strategic and occasionally calculating, patient, sharp-eyed. His sleeves stayed at his elbows, rolled once; he had no tattoos to show off, and was long past needing to watch for stains on the lily-colored cloth. But his whites nonetheless betrayed his rock hard abdominal muscles, his toned chest, the same way Levi's showed off the narrowness of his waist and the leanness of his arms.

The two men met in the doorway of Erwin's office and exchanged a nod. 

"Morning, Levi."

"Mornin', Chef." 

"Got a lot to do today," Erwin smiled at him broadly, producing the list from his pocket. "After you're done checking the produce, I need you to help me with prep. There's a party of twelve, two of six, for tonight's prix fixe menu. Ymir gets here at 4, she'll need stock for her sauces-- and Hanji, well. I was going to ask you to stick around to do their fillets with them but..." Erwin chuckled and Levi nodded knowingly. 

"They'll get it done quicker without me there. That's it, then?" Levi cracked his fingers. "The usual?" 

Erwin nodded, suddenly distracted. A young man in a pair of broken-in jeans and a faded shirt was coming up to the door. He didn't seem hindered by the sign denoting the hours on the front door, and let himself in. 

"I can't believe someone's that stupid," Levi clicked his tongue and watched as the young man-- the boy, really, for though he was clearly old enough to drink, the brightness and energy of his face made youthfulness fill his every step-- walked right up to the kitchen entrance behind the register. "Maybe he wants a job." 

"We'll see," Erwin walked out to meet him with a quizzical expression. 

The boy straightened up and, somehow, beamed even brighter while holding out his hand in greeting. "Hey! I'm Eren-- Jaeger. From the farm. I've got your delivery in the back." 

Erwin grasped his hand. He was surprised to find that Eren gripped readily and returned his strong handshake, though at a second glance, it was clear that he was no stranger to tests of strength. "Erwin Smith. Good to meet you, Eren. This is my sous chef, Levi." 

Levi emerged from behind Erwin, looking distastefully at the offered hand. "Hey," he said mildly, looking at Eren with a mix of interest and occupation elsewhere. He rarely regarded anyone with his full attention. 

"Hello!" Eren was unfazed. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded towards the kitchen. "Why don't I meet you out back and you can look over everything? We itemize to make it easier..." he trailed off, waiting for Levi to respond. The raven-haired man arched an eyebrow. "Yes? Go on, we don't have all day," he pivoted on his heel and marched to the back entrance. 

"Oh- sorry." Eren stammered an apology and started to rush out. "Hold it," Erwin cleared his throat. Torn between the two men's orders, the brunet stopped a few feet short of the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Yessir?" he was well mannered, wasn't he? That would go over well with Levi. Erwin smiled kindly. "Once Levi's off to the races, you oughta come back in for a cup of coffee. He takes his time. Do you like espresso?" 

Something shifted in Eren's expression, something relaxed, and he grinned back as if his smile was a flame that'd just been lit. "Yes! I would really like that, just-- come back in? Okay! Thank you!" 

Once outside, Levi was sizing up Eren's black Nissan Titan, the flat stocked to bursting with ripe, gem-like tomatoes, potatoes yellow as the sun, greens so rich they would put a mint to shame. He jerked a thumb towards the vehicle when Eren, out of breath, came up from around the corner. 

"You drive this baby all by yourself?" 

Eren nodded, climbing up into the driver's seat to fetch the list of products and their respective weight and cost. "Sure do, sir! I've been driving since I was about twelve." 

"Nice ride." Levi picked up a tomato and inspected it for bruises, apparently pleased with what he saw because he didn't say a word. Eren handed him the list. 

"Thanks, kid. Let me guess, Chef wants you to go back in?" Levi thumbed down each alphabetical word, eyes darting up to the truck's carriage to ensure its real-world equivalent was positioned somewhere in the crates. 

"Yeah, he offered me espresso. What a nice guy!" 

Levi shook his head slowly. "Better step to it." 

Eren watched the older's expression for a moment as he went down the list. His green eyes were nervous but captivated, and Levi soon grew aware of his gaze. He looked up, frowning. "I said get in there, Jaeger. You don't have that much time to prove you're more reliable than our last supplier." 

Eren, though, just smiled bashfully. "Sorry, I will. I just-- think you look very professional, sir." He rubbed the back of his neck and pushed his hair up in a stack. It was thick and luxurious, lightened by the sun. Good for pulling. And perpetually messy, judging by the way his hands continuously carded through it. Levi dropped his gaze back down to the sheet and said nothing, and it wasn't long before Eren's footsteps retreated. It was funny, Levi thought, that he knew better than to walk through the kitchen uninvited-- maybe the brat had knowledge beyond his years. Levi turned towards the back of the pickup truck, trying to push the young man's attractive features and coy staring from his mind. He had work to do. 

The espresso machine hissed like a snake, steam whistling out of it like a locomotive. 

"For all that, you'd think there'd be more!" Eren held up the tiny cup between his two fingers. Erwin chuckled lightly, pouring one for himself. 

"It's the limitation that makes it so good. Not a single person would savor an entire cup of this stuff." He dropped a sugar cube into the miniature mug and stirred it to nothing with a small spoon. 

Eren took it black and all at once. So much for savoring, the chef thought bemusedly. 

"I was expecting your father," Erwin said once Eren had clacked the cup back down onto its saucer. Eren tapped the porcelain thoughtfully, no doubt remembering the gauntlet Levi had laid for him moments before. 

"Yeah, well... truth be told, he's in no shape to be driving out every day. I thought I might be able to help out, you know-- but if you'd prefer someone with more experience I can see what I can do!" Eren shifted forward on his seat, the desire to please carrying him away. "Some of the hands are older, or I could tell them we have to look for a new hire, and there's always Mom--" 

Erwin waved a hand, dismissing the concept entirely. "No, no. You're doing well, Eren." 

The brunet's reaction to the praise took Erwin's breath away. A flush bloomed across his neck and cheeks and he laughed, self-depreciatingly, to distract from how flustered he'd become. "Okay, okay, good-- I just, I wanna make sure..." he pushed his hair back from his eyes. Bright green. Erwin hoped Levi would have good news about the delivery. He wouldn't mind seeing that face every Monday morning, nor watching it react to the news of a job well done. 

After Eren had left, Levi and Erwin were both occupied with their tasks until they had a chance to shell shrimp, which they did together, shoulder to shoulder at a prep table. 

"So, how'd the product side of things go?" 

"Perfect." It was a word Levi didn't use often. Erwin looked over his shoulder at him, eyebrows raised. Levi didn't pause in his work, sliding his finger beneath the shell and unwrapping it from the soft flesh of the fish in one fluid motion. 

"Everything we needed and not a little more or less. Beautiful stuff, too." Levi thought for a moment before adding, "nice car." 

Erwin hummed with satisfaction, plucking the tail from a shrimp in one whole piece with two firm, practiced fingers. "He seemed anxious to me. Probably not for any underhanded reasons, though, he mentioned his father couldn't make it here today." 

"Eager to please, in my opinion." 

The taller man nodded. They shelled in silence for a while, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Until finally, Levi clicked his tongue and murmured, "he was kind of cute, wasn't he?" 

"Oh, yes," Erwin replied sincerely and sighed. " _Very._ "


	2. sandhill crane

"If you worked in my kitchen, I'd buzz that all off." 

Once again, Eren's hand was midway through his longish hair, pulling it away from his eyes to better look at Levi. He laughed good-naturedly, though he felt his neck grow warm. "It's nice when it's sunny, believe me. Anyway, I couldn't ever work in a kitchen." Eren said this to the concrete, which he usually watched when he talked to Levi during his inspection. 

They had a rhythm now. He would arrive, chat with Levi (and sometimes smoke one of his cigarettes), then go in and drink the coffee that was always waiting for him by 11:05. 

"Fuckin' coward." The pen in Levi's hand twitched as he checked off an item from his list. Eren stared at him. 

"Hang on, it's not because I'm _scared_!" he protested, "Levi-i. I'm just too dumb for a place like this. I can take the heat, just not the-- math," he laughed in a stuttering, self-deprecating way. 

Levi frowned and looked up at him. He'd been doing it more and more recently, Eren had noticed. They would be in the middle of speaking and his steely eyes would suddenly snap onto Eren's green ones. It never failed to make his heart skip a beat, and even more so then with his expression so somber. When he spoke, it was with a voice Eren hadn't heard him use yet. 

"Did someone say that to you?" 

"What?" For a second, some of the brightness dropped from Eren's face. His mouth drew into a little 'o' and his eyebrows furrowed, gaze falling away from Levi. "It's just a joke." 

"Tch." Levi's face relaxed back into its usual cool demeanor. "You could do a lot better than some of these kids," he nodded towards the kitchen, "at least you know the difference between scallions and shallots." 

"Hah. Yeah, maybe." Eren sort of laughed, both relieved and disappointed that he had lost Levi's attention. 

"Your coffee's probably ready by now, Eren." The shorter man leaned his shoulders against the brick wall opposite the Nissan, returning his eyes to the itemized list in his hands. "Go on in," he gestured to the door with the tip of his pen. "Oh-- okay." Eren was surprised but quick to obey, stepping into the kitchen with a little sing-song, "see you later," to Levi. 

On his way through the gleaming silver tables and pricey marble counters, Eren was so dazzled by the unfamiliar sights he very nearly ran into a tall, auburn-haired cook who was ruefully scrubbing the inside of a martini shaker. He stopped just short of his clogs, throwing up his hands to prevent them from colliding. "Shit!" he stumbled back a little and caught his balance. 

"Oh shit. Fresh meat in the kitchen," the uniformed man grinned at Eren, who returned the look. 

"Hi, I'm Eren Jaeger, I deliver--" 

"-- the produce, yeah. Erwin mentioned you… or maybe Levi? Anyway, I'm Jean. I bartend." He, Jean, tossed the shaker into a hand sink with his towel and dapped Eren up. "So, you work on at a farm?" 

"One better, I _live_ on a farm!" he glanced over his shoulder to see if Erwin was waiting for him. 

"Do you grow… like, just anything?" 

"Uh… yeah, pretty much." Eren looked back at Jean, whose expression was conspiring and narrowed. His eyebrows bobbed up and down once, like he was suggesting something. 

"Like… _anything_?" 

Eren blinked. "Well, we have two orchards and about fifty acres of land, so--" 

Jean rolled his eyes. "Pot, Eren. Weed. Do you grow weed?" 

"Oh!" The brunet's mouth dropped open in understanding and he nodded quickly. "Yes, my father is a botanist, and it's legal for us to work with dispensaries, so... " he dampened his lips and glanced around before leaning in and adding, "why, do you wanna smoke?" 

The bartender's grin returned. "I've got a few hours between now and my evening shift." 

"Oh… I have other deliveries to make." 

"You can't drive stoned?" 

Eren crossed his arms. "I don't want to be _late_." 

"Come back tonight," Jean tossed the towel over his shoulder. "I'm sure Chef Erwin'd make you something to eat if you looked at him sweetly enough. You can sit at the bar while we're closing-- everyone else wants to meet you anyways." 

That was surprising. Everyone else wanted to meet him? Did Levi and Erwin really mention him to the rest of the staff? The thought made made Eren stand up a little straighter. "I-- I could do that." 

Jean snorted. "Don't be nervous. They're just a bunch of freaks." 

"Jean." 

The bartender's back stiffened and he turned to meet the cold blue eyes of his head chef. "Yes, Chef?" 

Erwin picked up the dish from the handwashing sink and held it out to him. "This doesn't belong here." 

"Yeah, sorry, Chef. Got distracted." Jean took the shaker and slipped into the dish room, giving Eren a sidelong look and tapping the side of his nose. The brunet giggled. Erwin's eyes followed the gesture with just the slightest twinge of jealousy, but he wrote it off quickly. 

Instead, he put a hand on the back of Eren's shoulders and guided him out of the kitchen. The touch almost made Eren jump out of his skin. God, the man's hand was huge. If it would only move a little lower… he cleared his throat. 

"Hey, Chef Erwin… would it be alright if I visited tonight, um, and maybe tried some of your food? I understand if you're busy, but… Jean said some people wanted to meet me?" He climbed up on his usual barstool and stuffed his hands between his thighs. He looked like a neat knot, ankles crossed, back straight, lips parted. 

How the fuck could he say no? 

"Of course, Eren," Erwin smiled tightly. He knew his food was good, but there was still some slight nervousness that never failed to simmer up when an acquaintance tried it, as if he was sharing something deeply personal-- even though it was only a meal. But this charming young man had earned a soft spot in his heart already. He was polite, punctual, honest-- and as he and Levi had noticed that first day, easy on the eyes. 

"Come while we're closing up at ten thirty. I'll set a plate aside for you." 

Eren's expression lit up from behind the raised lip of his mug. "Thank you! I'm looking forward to it…" White milk foam from the coffee had gathered on his upper lip. Erwin removed a robins-egg blue towel from the waist of his apron and reached out to wipe it away, automatic, instinctual; the soft cloth barely kept the chef's fingers from touching his mouth and the closeness, the vague paternity of the gesture, sent a shiver down Eren's spine. He was left open-mouthed, looking up at Erwin with something that the older man hadn't seen in someone else in a long time. Submission. 

It was electrifying. For a second, Erwin wasn't thinking about his prep list, getting ready for the evening rush, sanitizing the table he'd just used, _or_ the delivery Levi was looking over. He was struck with an intense desire to grab Eren by his hair and force him to climb over the bar and claim that sweet, shy, open mouth. He wanted to put _his_ hands between his thighs. 

But then Erwin found himself shaking his head and turning away, his hands finding something to clean instead of soft skin to knead and roll into waves of luxurious pleasure, long throaty cries, limbs tangling in a desperate climb for-- _no_. He was working. These thoughts had their place, but not here, not now. 

Eren shut his mouth, feeling the tension between them dissolve. He looked down to hide the disappointment in his eyes. What was that? he marvelled, and drank the rest of his coffee in silence. 

***

SINA was packed. The dish that had put their name on the map, grilled sandhill crane, had just come back in season and Hanji had been busy all day plucking, butchering, and seasoning the birds for the gourmands and critics who had surely reserved tables that evening. All night, the kitchen remained in motion; flames spurted, liquids dropped, smoke filled the flue and it smelled like exotic birds. If anyone from the front of house besides their head waiter Armin had been allowed in the back, they would've tripped and scalded themselves almost immediately. There was a coordinated flow to the chaos, each member of the staff accustomed to the speed and completely, entirely focused on what they needed to get done. 

They were all used to those moments when it seemed like everything was about to collapse around them. A fire started or plates were sent back, an inexperienced cook walked out or a customer made a scene. Sometimes they ran out of things that were better made six, eight, twenty-four hours before, and the only thing to do was to make more of it-- while also keeping up with the orders, following Erwin's instruction, and maintaining clean workspaces. And yet even when those moments came, nothing collapsed. The night merely progressed, and when the only option was to buckle down and accomplish thrice the amount of work any of them thought was possible, they understood the finity of it well enough not to complain or hesitate. 

And always, the night would wind down. People would filter out in groups until there were only a few tables left, and the classical music could be heard winding through the carved wooden table legs and echoing against the restaurant's emptiness. Dishes would be gathered and stacked in the back for Connie, the least trained line cook, to spearhead rinsing and sanitizing-- a task that the other cooks, Mikasa and Sasha, would help with once they were done chain smoking outside in their whites. The specialists, like Hanji and Christa, who did the meat and pastry respectively, typically left right at the closing hour, or some time before if the night seemed slow. Others, like Ymir, made enormous batches of sauces in the afternoon and left before they opened, the fruits of her labor neatly labelled inside the walk-in freezer. 

That night, as they inched towards close, a few groups sat spaced apart, bills paid, dessert coffee half-drunk, crumbs on the table. Pixis, their resident sommelier, was leaned over the bar and telling Jean something about wine pairings that the reluctant server was not especially happy to pay attention to. Erwin sat in his office signing checks, and Levi oversaw the cooks cleaning up the kitchen. When Eren arrived at the front, he was-- for once-- unnoticed. 

Feeling anxious about showing up to a fancy restaurant during operating hours in his work jeans, Eren had taken the time to change into dusty brown corduroys, a pair of shoes he'd only ever worn to a wedding, and a sage green collared shirt that-- he noticed after leaving the house for a second trip to the city-- had his mother's cross stitching across the front pocket, in the shape of a rose. Or, since it was a green shirt, a cabbage. 

He felt underdressed at the door. Once a few steps inside, though, Jean caught his eye and waved him over, making him feel a little less out of place. He went up to the bar, feeling a little thrill about smoking with a near-stranger after his exciting job at a restaurant. It seemed that the closer he got to this place, the more interesting his own life got. 

Tearing Jean away from the sommelier was no easy task, though, and Eren somehow found himself hunched over the bar with a glass of red wine in front of him, struggling to name the taste on the back of his tongue. 

"Cardamom?" 

Pixis shook his head. "You're in the right area! Have some more!" he pushed the glass towards the brunet. 

"You'd better hope Eren doesn't have somewhere to be in the morning." Erwin's low voice rose up from behind them. He put a hand on Eren's shoulder and set a square-shaped plate covered in tin foil in front of him. "To go with the wine." 

Eren gasped. "Really? You didn't have to-- um, I can pay for this--" 

"Consider it a tip for good service." Erwin patted his shoulder and took his hand off his skin, much to Eren's dismay. He removed the foil, revealing four clean cuts of maroon-colored meat, resting macabrely on a sweet potato puree in the shape of a set of wings in flight and adorned with emerald green sprigs of parsley-- which Eren himself had helped to harvest, yet could hardly recognize in this stripped, chiffonade form. The same for the mushrooms that crowned the dish, and had been sliced as thin as paper, yet still crunched between Eren's teeth. Delicate as feathers. 

Though Eren didn't want for good food living on a farm, this level of preparation-- and not to mention luxury-- was new to him. He set out to impress Erwin by taking slow, thoughtful bites, but once he'd started eating, it was difficult to stop-- and besides, the chef was now in conversation with their sommelier saying something about a wine market. 

Halfway through the meal, Eren felt a tug on his arm. Jean was looming, nodding towards the exit. The brunet hesitated for a second-- he didn't want to waste the chef's generous gesture-- but after another tug, gave in and slipped off his barstool. 

"Oh, a cigarette? Yeah, thanks, Eren," Jean said, loud enough for Erwin to hear. The head chef waved them out with a nod. 

Outside, the brisk October air made Eren stuff his hands in his pockets and wish he was wearing his Carhartt jacket, which he'd left in a pile on his passenger seat. Instead, he slipped into the alleyway behind the restaurant and followed Jean to two tin trash cans. The auburn haired boy plunked down on the lid of one, hanging his legs over the sides. 

"How was your night?" Eren asked politely and pulled a slender joint out of his breast pocket. Jean produced a lighter with a light, derisive laugh. "You never turn it off, huh?" he plucked the reefer out of Eren's fingers and stuck it between his teeth. "My night was a fucking nightmare, like it always is." He lit the end, and Eren wondered at how he puffed the large flame towards his face without fear of singing his hair. 

But Jean hadn't so much as taken a hit before they both distinctly heard the sound of clipped footsteps from the other side of the restaurant, and before Eren could react, Jean had shoved the lit joint into his fingers and bolted down the opposite end of the alleyway. Eren looked down at the proverbial smoking gun and back up to the approaching figure, which he realized far too late was the small but nonetheless intimidating silhouette of Levi. 

"Shit." He scraped the lit end against the brick wall, but not before the sous-chef was right on top of him. 

"Well," Levi reached out and took Eren's wrist, bringing it forward. "This is unexpected." 

"I'm sorry, sir, I honestly-- I didn't think it would--" Eren's desperate explanation was cut short as Levi took the damp end of the joint and inhaled deeply. "Oh…" 

Levi blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth. "Fuck, that's good." 

Eren smiled weakly. "Homegrown." 

"Just one more thing to find impressive about you." Levi leaned forward and braced his forearm against the side of the alleyway, caging Eren's head in with one arm. 

"I-impressive?" Eren turned an attractive autumnal shade of red, raising his hand just in time to take his weed cigarette back from Levi. "Thank you, Levi. That… that really means a lot, coming from you." 

The raven-haired man's eyebrow arched, but not with displeasure. The corners of his mouth turned up briefly. His fingers reached out to wrap around the thick strands of Eren's hair that he had admired since their very first meeting and he tugged on them, just slightly. "I figured you would say that." And then he released his grip and withdrew, leaving Eren breathless. 

"W…" Eren blinked and Levi took a step back. Somehow, he had obtained the joint once again. Eren watched him hit it in a daze. What was going on? Did Levi really just come onto him? How did he still look so composed, so spotless? Eren was painfully aware of the hardness in his dress pants, the heat on his skin… but Levi was toking calmly across from him. 

"Did you like that, Eren?" his voice was the same as it had been earlier, deep with concern. It did funny things to Eren. 

"Are you kidding?" the young man laughed breathlessly and leaned forward, running his fingers through his hair. Levi's expression did not change and Eren looked up at him hopelessly, unable to explain his incredulousness with anything besides, "this place is mad! I-I look forward to coming here, I really do-- but you and Chef-- you and _Erwin_ are driving me crazy!" he tossed his head back, resting his scalp on the brick and exposing his Adam's apple. 

"Erwin and me?"Levi stepped up to Eren, who didn't notice-- or if he did, he didn't budge. He nodded, letting out a desperate whine. "You're both so… so hot, and you--" he was cut off by his own moan as Levi leaned up against his body and mouthed a rough kiss against his neck. Eren was sure Levi could feel his arousal if he hadn't already noticed it, and sure enough, the smaller man pressed his hand firmly against the middle of Eren's thighs and felt him up thoroughly. All Eren could do was whimper and moan, pinned between the brick wall and, even more immovably, Levi's body. 

He could scarcely believe this was happening, even less so when Levi pressed the joint between his lips. Stuttering his inhale around the shorter man's unending affections, Eren's head was past dizzy. He felt astral. He melted against Levi with an utterly relieved sigh, letting his eyes slide shut. The noxious smell of the drug they were sharing filled his nose and gravity got stronger. Levi's arm held him up now by his waist, his highly competent fingers stroking him through the corduroy. Eren felt like he was going to lose his mind if this went on. 

As if he knew Eren's body already, Levi slowed his pace. "Sexy car, good grass. I think we should take this somewhere a little more private, Eren." 

The brunet's voice hitched and he nodded silently, allowing Levi to pull away from him without complaint. 

"Why don't you wait in your truck? I'll be there momentarily." 

Eren nodded again, dutifully, and slid away from the wall-- but then he stopped, looking divided. "I didn't finish eating…" 

Levi rolled his eyes. "I'll pack it for you. Go on, brat." 

If Levi could have tasted it, he would have found the noise Eren made in response decadent, and the awkward limp in his retreat as he struggled around the prominence of his erection even more so. Levi made a mental note to call him that again.


	3. double cream

Once Levi re-entered the restaurant, a vague plan had already begun to form in the back of his mind. He was used to strategizing on hand, finding quick solutions to immediate problems. And the current problem seemed to be, Eren was pining after the two highest-ranking members of this gourmet restaurant's staff, and the two highest-ranking members of the staff had not had a proper night off in fuck-knows-how-long. 

After packing Eren's remaining food beneath foil, Levi went to Erwin's open door and rapped on the doorframe. The blond looked up, mouth wrinkled in mid-concentration. "Yes?" 

"I need a favor." 

Erwin tapped his checks straight and set them aside, folding his hands and giving Levi his complete attention. The smaller man had never asked him for a favor before-- in fact, for all Erwin had seen of him, Levi never needed assistance. "What is it? Is everything alright?" 

Levi waved his fingers dismissively as if to say _yes, everything's fine._. "Eren and I are looking for somewhere to smoke tonight and my place is a fucking disaster." 

"To-- you're going to smoke Eren out?" Erwin couldn't help but wonder if he'd misjudged the young man. First Jean, now this. But Levi shook his head. 

"He's smoking me out. Anyway, how about your place?" Levi leaned his shoulder against the side of the wall, his black chef's hat tipping slightly. "After all your talk about your countertop remodel, I'm dying to see it for myself." 

The head chef weighed his second's words, detecting something behind his eyes. But he couldn't find a source, and he couldn't deny that the offer of a night with the two of them sounded more appealing than his usual glass of wine and a chapter of James Joyce's masterpiece _Ulysses_ before bed. 

"Give me a few minutes." 

***

The drive to Levi's was strangely quiet. Although Eren's eyes shot up when Erwin climbed into the back of his car, a reassuring smile from Levi was enough to put him momentarily at ease. "We're going to Chef's place. Mine first, though, for my pipe--" he rattled off directions to his downtown apartment, and in order to take them in, Eren had to put the chef's ominous presence in his backseat out of his mind. Somehow, he managed to recall Levi's instructions well enough to navigate to the lobby while the dark-haired man gazed out the window at the passing buildings and Erwin, hands folded in his lap, observed the energy between them for some suggestion of what had spurred this. 

Levi insisted that he go in alone, so Eren was left sitting in the driver's seat, all too aware of Erwin's slow, steady breaths behind him. The truck made a low, rumbling sound as it idled, the dim light from the street casting melancholy squares on the dash. 

"S-so… sorry about Jean," he said awkwardly. "I wasn't trying to take him off the job or anything…" 

Erwin looked into the rear mirror at Eren's bright green eyes. "It's fine. He's… well, we're outside of work now… I have to say, I think you could do better." 

"What?" Eren suddenly laughed. "Oh my god! Me? With that horse-face? No-- no, no, we were just smoking weed and Levi saw us… I thought he'd be mad, but, uh, here we are," he kept laughing, a little more nervously. 

Erwin reached forward and squeezed Eren's shoulder, relieved. He started to say something, but then was interrupted as he noticed the way that the young man's breath hitched, how his face flushed under the streetlamps, how his back arched like a parenthesis. 

"Here we are," he repeated. 

The car door opened and slammed. Levi re-entered, with some difficulty-- as Eren's 2005 brown Nissan Titan was an exceptionally tall truck-- holding a hookah pipe that was almost as tall as him. He had changed out of his chef whites and into black jeans and an equally darkly colored henley shirt. The pipe, though, distracted somewhat from his outfit. It was half his size, black and gold, deeply ornate with the mouth of a dragon opening into a wide bowl. 

Eren leaned over his wheel to peer over the hood, then straightened up and looked through the rear windshield as he backed out of his parking spot. "Can you give me directions?" he asked Erwin. 

" _Can_ he," Levi murmured from the passenger seat. 

Erwin leaned forward between the two front seats, one hand on the shoulder of each. The scent of his uniform, oil and herbs and sugar, filled Eren's nose, and it took a great deal of personal strength not to turn his head and take a deeper breath. Instead, he focused on controlling the raw horsepower of his tawny-colored truck, rolling the wheel beneath his palm before straightening out and putting his foot on the gas. 

"It's not far," the chef commented. Eren tapped his wheel with the heel of his hand, his expression abruptly bright, eager and confident. He always felt strong when he was driving his Titan. "Where am I going?" 

Erwin's mouth suddenly seemed to be right next to his ear. "Keep going." His voice was rich and creamy, like the taste of sweet potatoes, like double cream, like dark chocolate. Eren's confidence ebbed and he swallowed thickly, unconsciously speeding up. 

"That's a little fast," Erwin noticed, his warm breath washing over the curve of Eren's neck. 

"I-it's nothing-- compared to what I'd be doing on my drive home. Whoo!" Eren eased to a swift but not sudden stop at a red light and jostled his passengers. 

Once he started driving, Erwin leaned forward a little more. "Left up here." 

Eren turned the car, giving both men a chance to examine the swell of his bicep as he navigated the large automobile. Levi and Erwin exchanged a brief look of admiration before the head chef returned to directing Eren. His voice, his soft breath, created a hot, humid climate in Eren. Luckily they arrived outside Erwin's single-floor home before the rainy season came. 

***

Levi set his pipe down on the terracotta floor in the landing with a clunk and the three men maneuvered inside. The interior of Erwin's apartment was unexpectedly homey. Large, earthy comforters hugged the brow of his couch, old hardcovers and precious souvenirs sat attentively on shelves, and the furniture, though mismatched in precise shade, were all dark wood. His living room was dominated by a rolltop desk, which in turn was made diminutive by all manner of cookbooks-- bookmarked, annotated, and stacked with their spines military straight. 

The kitchen, where as if by instinct Levi and Erwin both paused and leaned against the riverbed stone countertops, was equally cozy and orderly. A mountainous spice rack hid the mint green backsplash alongside a gas stove. Behind glass cabinets, picturesque copper mugs and porcelain plates winked, merely suggesting, flirting with their use. Hand-woven oven mitts hung in a thoughtful line above the oven. His salt and pepper shakers were two small, plump, white and gray ceramic chickens.

Eren hopped up on a metal barstool on the opposite side of the island counter. Levi's eyes roved in an understated circle, taking it in. "My kitchen is cleaner than yours," he commented with a sly look in his eyes. Erwin huffed a slightly disbelieving laugh, the closest thing to dry humor Eren had heard him express so far. 

"So, this mythical pot of yours..." Erwin cast his eyes towards Eren. Again, there was an unfamiliar charm, a certain relaxation in his behavior-- maybe from being away from work or being in his own house. Either way, it was thrilling to the younger man to see this imposing chef's demeanor subdued, laidback. He pulled a baggie of weed out of his back pocket, the buds like geodes exquisitely mottled with purple and orange flecks, and offered it out to the cooks. 

Levi took the bag and held it up above his eyes. "Fucking shit, Jaeger. What do you call this stuff?" 

"Wings of freedom," Eren replied with an enthusiastic grin. "It's a hybrid." 

The raven-haired man fetched his dragon-shaped hookah pipe and headed for the living room. Eren and Erwin shared a momentary gaze above the island counter, Eren staring at him openly now and Erwin returning his interest with a cool, almost studious expression. 

It was nearly too much. Eren looked down and slid off the stool. "You have a very nice home, um. Thank you for having me." 

Erwin chuckled warmly. The sound was like water burbling into tide pools, turquoise and brimming with life. "It's been a while since I've entertained." They strode together to meet Levi. He was cross-legged on the couch, shoes off, packing the pipe generously. "I'm happy to do it. Both of you..." Erwin paused in the center of his living room and averted his eyes, clearly unsure of what he had been about to say. "Good company," he murmured finally. 

Eren's cheeks warmed. He couldn't explain why this man's approval had such an effect on him, but as he took the couch next to Levi, he noticed that the sous-chef was concealing a small, shy smile beneath the peak of his nose. It seemed he wasn't alone in his desperate crush. 

Erwin stopped by a chestnut side table and selected a record. Low, crackly jazz whispered shades of gold and blue from the speaker, muted brass and eager woodwinds. 

One long tube, black and snake-like with a gilded mouthpiece, leaned from Levi's palm to his lips as if to kiss them. Eren watched, rapt, as he leaned forward and lit the ground herb with a lighter as big as his palm. He inhaled deeply, chest rising, and passed the mouthpiece to Eren as the smoke curled out from the edge of his mouth, his nostrils. Gray-blue. Eren had never smoked from something this large before, but he didn't say that. He took the offered piece and sucked on it like a lollipop. 

The resulting cough filled the room with haze. Levi laughed, sharp and short, and clapped Eren's back. 

"It's not my fault," the brunette choked, "city slicker smoking. I'm used to," he coughed feebly, "rolling joints." He drew a clean breath. Levi's hand remained between his shoulder blades, Eren noticed. His thumb brushed against the exterior of his spine, nearly sending the farmer's son into another coughing fit. 

Erwin settled down in a leather armchair diagonally from Eren, close enough that their legs were shin to shin. He accepted the next hit much more gracefully, pulling longer than Levi did and holding it in his lungs with the practiced patience of a long-time smoker. 

Head swimming, Eren thought Erwin looked like the dragon on Levi's pipe, blowing out his smoke in one elegant plume. 

"Hmm..." he shut his eyes and leaned back. 

"How long since you last smoked?" Levi had recalled his last drug experience, an abominably stoned shift at a premier sushi restaurant, the moment he smelled the reefer in the alleyway-- as his stepfather had always called it. 

Erwin cast his eyes up. "Christmas last year." Levi inhaled, exhaled. Eren was more cautious this time, hiccuping like a cartoon drunk once he took his mouth away, but instead of a noxious bubble he exhaled lavender smoke. He felt a sudden anxiety-- he smoked all the time! Would they think he was immature for that? 

Erwin drew once more from the ornate pipe, icy blue eyes sliding shut. 

"Is... is that because of the restaurant?" Eren ventured. Erwin nodded-- Levi shrugged. 

"If it's easy to work high it's not a job worth doing." Levi's eyes glinted as he took the piece from his executive chef. 

"In your opinion," Erwin added. "I've mentioned the bakery a few times, haven't I? Used to smoke like a chimney on my breaks. Loved that little place." 

Eren let out a surprised laugh. "You never got in trouble? Or messed up?" 

"It's all measurements. The man who hired me smoked even more." 

This was world-changing news for Eren. "You mean people work high all the time?!" 

Levi and Erwin both cackled at that, though Levi recovered first. Erwin's stoned laugh sounded more like a crashing wave, genuine mirth creasing the corners of his eyes. The sous-chef's hand trailed down to the bottom of Eren's back, forcing him to sit up straight to avoid shivering. 

"So, Eren." Levi's stainless steel eyes raked over him as he sat between them both, palms flat between his knees. He blew smoke over the brunet's features haughtily. "Do you have work to do tomorrow?" 

Eren shook his head, all he could do while hitting the grand mechanism between the three of them. "After delivery day it's my Saturday, sort of," he explained around a mouthful of smoke. 

Erwin raised an eyebrow. "And what would you normally be doing?" 

Both of them were looking at him now and Eren almost squirmed. He was stoned, a little tired, and finally had the attention of the two men whose eyes and ears he had been puppying after for weeks. His knees bobbed open, shut. 

"I guess sleeping in unless I'm going fishing... maybe take a drive through the hills... nap, make dinner. But the best part of a day off is the long breakfast. In my opinion," he added with a nod towards Erwin. 

"Well, looks like our Eren has found the path to your heart, Chef," Levi mused. 'Our Eren' echoed in the young man's head. Erwin leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His fingers were inches from Eren's thighs. "It's true," He took the next hit, "you've described a perfect day for both of us, I imagine. It's almost a shame we have a restaurant to run." Erwin glanced up at Levi, imagining for a moment his hair carefree splayed in the wind from rolled down windows, sun-kissed cheeks, a hot meal with good coffee. 

"Almost?" Levi's hand skirted lower, then vanished. He was leaning in towards Erwin now, letting Eren study his face with more privacy than he'd managed to get before then. He had the illuminating qualities of the moon beneath his stern, delicate eyes. His lips often toyed with the idea of expression, as if they considered and then dismissed it. As he spoke to Erwin, his eyes were star-like. 

"You know I love it there but just now, I'd kill not to have anywhere to be tomorrow besides the road." 

"You love it there?" Erwin, on the other hand, had a way of expressing his feelings with such immense sincerity and truthfulness, that to elicit a response was twice as satisfying as Levi's sudden smiles and laughs. His expression was one extremely flattered, brow bowed and eyes shining, and Levi realized he didn't know that as well as he'd thought. 

He put his hand on Erwin's knee. "There, with you?" Eren realized what Levi was about to do perhaps two seconds before Erwin did. The raven-haired man dropped into his lap and pulled him into a deep, inhalant kiss. Erwin stilled-- then melted, wrapping his arms beneath Levi's ass. 

They broke apart for air and fluidly, like a truly professional multitasker, Levi reached for Eren and grabbed him by the collar. He dragged his head between the two of them, forcing his legs up onto the armrest. Almost instinctively, Erwin and Levi's mouths turned to attack his neck, Levi with sharp nips and fierce suction, Erwin with slow, long, biting kisses. 

Somehow, they already knew the way to divide their attentions. Levi grabbed Eren's head and gave him a rough, hot taste of his tongue, while Erwin's hands wandered to belt loops and waistbands. The shorter men were panting in no time at all, so then, naturally, they both turned on Erwin. Where most of his partners would willingly turn themselves over to his capable hands and impressive stature, these two found themselves already hovering over him, their combined weights keeping him pinned to the chair. They took advantage of this readily. Erwin could only press closer to them, trapped against Levi's merciless fingers, Eren's eager mouth. 

But Erwin wasn't totally defenseless. His wide palms lay on either man's crotch, stroking and teasing simultaneously through the fabric. It had a substantially greater effect on Eren, his face squashed between Erwin's shoulder and neck, lips moving against his thumping pulse in a choral pattern. The litany of moans drowned out the last song on the record-- none of them were listening anyways. Levi was kissing Erwin and relentlessly refusing to pull back, deepening and lessening at a ruthless, passionate pace. 

When he finally broke their locked lips, the record had spun to a stop. Eren was whining and rolling his hips against Erwin's hand, and Erwin in turn was out of breath and light-headed, trying with all his strength not to writhe against Levi's wandering finger. And Levi, who they were both realizing had foreseen this far before either of them, sat back and watched, his hips barely rocking to indulge Erwin's touch. 

"The... bedroom's down the hall," the light-haired man gasped. Levi clutched his chin between his thumb and fingers. "Are you uncomfortable?" His voice was much less bored, now stern and jarringly sincere. Erwin was surprised to find that this sudden display of dominance and proprietorship stirred heat low in his body. 

"Quite the opposite," he replied, deep in voice as he was in arousal.

"Then we're staying here." Levi solidified this point by straddling Erwin's lap behind Eren. He twisted to relight the pipe and take another quick, savory draw. Eren moaned and bucked forward, only to feel a sharp tug on the back of his head. Levi was studying him like a questionable cut of meat. "Someone wants attention," he commented in his usual cool tone before shoving the brat's head back towards Erwin. 

Eren, now presented with the chef's gorgeous, disheveled face could not resist dropping down across his chest like a heavy blanket and capturing his mouth in a sloppy kiss. 

Erwin felt Levi's hand carrying the zip of his pants down above his cock. "Fuck," he groaned into Eren's mouth. 

In minimal silence, accompanied by lowing, keening, sweet noises from all three of them as their hands explored freely, Erwin, Levi, and Eren continued their heavy petting at a luxurious pace. Levi's hand was inside Erwin's pants, working him into a feverish lust. Yet it was Eren who was closest to losing his mind, one of Levi's hands roughly kneading the soft skin of his ass and both of Erwin's rubbing close, but not close enough, to the source of his aching. 

"P-p... please..." he cried out, fisting his nails into Erwin's snow white uniform. "Can... will you fuck me? Please-- e-either of you..." 

"Tch," Levi smacked Eren's perky ass through his corduroys,"what do you think?" He locked eyes with Erwin and smirked. The blond took a deep breath and nodded, slowly. 

Levi slid off Erwin's lap, pulling Eren gasping with him by his hair before letting him go with a snap of his wrist. Erwin rose, and without a beat of hesitation, reached down and wound his arm around Eren's waist before tossing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Aah," his moan was more than enough affirmation that the young man didn't mind being manhandled. But never one to do things halfway, Erwin wasn't through and Levi, who had first been amused with Eren's predicament, quickly joined him on Erwin's opposite shoulder with a hitching, surprised, "my God--!" His cheeks went red, feet kicking without real resistance, abdomen twisting playfully, and the head chef ascertained that he didn't mind it either. 

Erwin hefted both men-- a soft cry from Eren, a swallowed curse word from Levi-- and carried them to the door of his bedroom as if they were nothing more than sacks of flour. He threw them down on the mattress with little fanfare and a small grunt of effort, before reaching to undo his uniform before it got any more wrinkled. 

Levi sat up on the bed and wet his lips, throwing Erwin a questioning, dry look. "So. What's the plan?" Eren pulled his knees up to his chest and stared at them both. It was hard to believe this was happening, and yet it had all come so naturally. 

Erwin folded his jacket over his arm, a smile playing on his lips. 

"Clothes off, Eren."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spit-roasting is a dry heat cooking technique


	4. the flowers at brunch

"Me?" Eren's eyes widened fractionally. For the second time that night, he was caught in the eyes of both of his admirees and the effect of their combined attention made heat shoot through him. But now, the looming question of attraction had been answered with a resounding _yes!_ and he no longer had to wonder if they thought about his body the way he thought about theirs. All the time he had fantasized about Erwin's strong jaw and elegant brow, Levi's brutal tone, his merciless hands, they had held him in their minds in a similar regard. The very idea of it was enough to make him shiver, and it was clear that the only thing left for him to do was obey. His hands were, in fact, already at his throat, undoing his buttons. 

Levi watched him with a level gaze. Erwin went to his closet and hung up his chef whites on a hanger, taking a deep breath. He had fantasized about Levi, _certainly_. They had always shared some amount of tension while working together, but never, never in a million years had he thought that he would find himself in this situation. He couldn't approach this like any other partner, he knew that much. For one thing, there were two of them. For another, Eren was worked up, ready to go, while Levi was sat coolly to the side, calculating-- perhaps thinking of the very same thing as Erwin. It would be tricky to strike a balance. 

Luckily Erwin had synthesized far more unusual ingredients in one dish before. As Eren removed his dress clothes, the head chef took initiative and strode across the room to seize Levi by the front of his quarter-buttoned shirt and kiss him, deep and hard, with all the passion that had been left restrained at the end of so many shifts working side-by-side in a hot kitchen. Eren's eyes were wide and he couldn't help but gasp; they looked so _good!_

Their lips molded 'o's and Erwin's tongue began the hard work of changing Levi's calm demeanor, probing past his mouth and gliding across his palate. Like applying heat, like whipping air into a mixture, the other man was no less transformable than anything Erwin normally held in his large, well-trained hands. 

Levi groaned beneath him, digging his nails into Erwin's back through his plain white undershirt. He knew exactly how capable his head chef was. He knew his precision, his patience, could only imagine how they might manifest in touch. He knew that the man wouldn't abandon him suddenly, wouldn't push his expectations, wouldn't do anything that he didn't like-- and to be held and kissed dizzy by someone who he genuinely _trusted_ was beyond pleasure. It was bliss, and Levi was nearly content with that and nothing more. 

"Hey…" Eren crawled forward on the mattress. "How's this?" 

They turned to look, the kiss breaking. The brunet sat back on his knees, his worked shoulders angular, his thighs shapely. He had stripped completely. His skin was a rose grove of pinks, reds, whites, mauves, browns-- the hair on his stomach formed an enticing trail down to the silhouette of his arousal. 

"Good," Erwin reached out and pulled him closer. "Very good." 

Levi whistled low. "Eren, you're a fucking beauty." 

He blushed despite himself. "Aren't you guys going to undress?" 

The two exchanged an anticipatory glance. At once, they pounced on the younger man. It was an echo of what they had done earlier on top of Erwin, but this time Eren was the one overwhelmed. They stripped as they slid around him, abandoning shirts and pants and socks wherever they fell in favor of the task ahead.

Levi pulled off of Eren for a moment to admire the two of them, giving Erwin the chance to position him. He moved Levi so that his back was up against his headboard, legs knocked apart like sticks on a path. 

"Eren, I want you to taste Levi." 

With an elated cry straight from his trembling throat, Eren sunk down on his stomach between Levi's legs. He wound his arms loosely around his hips and pulled his mouth up against his black briefs. A muffled whimper told both of the other men that his tongue had found the salty, damp, slightly bitter flavor of the head of his cock, and a belated, trembling gasp from Levi confirmed this. 

"Good," Erwin put his hand between Eren's shoulder blades and leveraged his weight up on his arm, sinking down on top of his muscular yet still marshmallowy ass. He set to work using both of his calloused hands, hands that had learned to ignore the pain of tired muscles, grown resilient to heat, didn't flinch at cuts, to work the stiffness out of the younger man's back. It was clear from the texture of his muscles that he worked himself hard on the farm. His spine cracked loudly with just a few dexterous movements. Erwin's fingers sunk beneath the tips of his shoulder blades. He moaned ecstatically against Levi, causing the smallest of the three of them to buck his hips and throw a hand into Eren's hair. 

_How was he doing that?_ Eren marveled. It was only his back, for fuck's sake, but each pass of his firm, experienced hands sent a wave of agonizing pleasure through his body, and all while his face was buried in the warm cushion of Levi's arousal. The taste of skin, sweat, and precum filled his nose and mouth; he felt as if he couldn't think of anything but the two men who, though merely holding, touching, seemed to surround him. 

Levi's hand tightened in his hair and he rolled his unsatisfied hips up, desperate for more than a mouth on his pants. A shadow moved over Levi's chest. Erwin leaned forward and kissed him again, letting his palms sink into either side of Eren's lower back. The young man wailed. It was a kind of savory pain, almost crucial pain, and rolling over him so indifferently-- as if he was the shore and Erwin was the waves wearing down his rocks to dust-- it seemed second to nature. 

The massage continued, but Levi had had enough of Eren's teasing. Hoisting him by his hair, Levi shoved his underwear down and freed his erection. It inexplicably reminded Eren of lily flowers, pale and dewey and blooming, and his musk made him think of words like 'undergrowth'; as though he were venturing face-first into dense foliage, Eren nuzzled his head forward and took Levi into his mouth without further ado. 

Levi exclaimed into Erwin's tongue and pulled away panting, the back of his skull clapping on the headboard. "Fuck..." 

Erwin leaned back to watch Levi's face twisting in ecstasy, his hands still working Eren's back. "Levi," he said, soft, warning. The man's steely eyes shot open and met his gaze. "Don't cum too soon." 

Somehow, being told not to go over the edge made Levi approach it faster. His breaths ragged, he kept his body still and allowed Eren to do as he pleased. His shaggy head of hair bobbed up and down in earnest, tongue stroking the underside of his shaft, the tip periodically hitting the back of Eren's throat in such a way that made Levi drop his jaw and shut his eyes, lean his head back and simply allow himself to be taken. Erwin was at his throat. His hand rested on his clavicle, thumb and forefinger toying with his nerves, mouth gnawing soft and wet then hard, searing, blood-singing. He knew was going to have marks in the morning and couldn't care less. 

Like he'd noticed with Levi, Eren was too transformable as an ingredient: dough and forcemeat, clarified butter and stubborn walnuts, unminced garlic and fruit heavy with juice, dishes close to home and far from it had passed beneath his skilled fingers and been turned into something on the artistic side of 'food'-- something that people savored and discussed, something so necessary that everyone had the privilege to enjoy it. He regarded his work with the utmost dignity, and so did he regard Eren's skin. He was changing his natural properties, taking something already beautiful and altering it for a kind of consumption. The young man relaxed, especially as Erwin moved to his hips, his ass. He opened him peripherally, preparing the rest of his body for the treatment that awaited it. Adoration was stamped on his fingertips. Thoughtful, always, were his strokes. 

Amidst this, Eren dared to suck a little harder. Levi moaned louder, Eren's muscles screamed, Erwin added more pressure-- they were like an engine of three parts, all fine-featured as watchpieces, mechanical and splendid as they were animal and disgraceful. Levi could feel himself beginning the tremendous pole-vault of orgasm, his weight balanced, his hands in place, and all it would take was a shudder of muscle to throw him over that sunlit hurdle. He grounded himself. His tight fingers stretched Eren's hair as taut as a sheet and he pulled him off of his cock with a puff of suppressed reluctance. 

"Turn him around," he said to Erwin, timbre low and wicked. 

"O-oh my god... Erwin, that felt soo fucking good..." Eren scrabbled to turn around and grab him, but his muscles were far too relaxed to resist the larger man carefully reversing his position and setting him up on his knees between the two of them. He only had a few moments to get his breath back before Levi began to probe and clean his entrance with his fingers, magically already damp with salvia, and Erwin took him into one of his deep, moving, wave-crashing kisses. It alone moved Eren's heart, and with Levi's tongue joining his fingers, he was rocked between utter romance and abject sexuality. 

Erwin's arms held up his loosened torso and, as he had done with Levi, the taller man marked his neck from chin to chest, which Levi noticed when he rose up for a breath of air. Ungarnished is unfinished, he thought sardonically, landing a fierce love bite on the back of Eren's shoulder. 

"Aah... ohh..." he felt he was losing the ability to tell either of these men how much he was enjoying himself. "Th-- oh m... thank..." 

Levi dug his fingers into Eren's left cheek, nearly hard enough to break the skin. "What are you trying to say?" he asked sternly. Eren arched his back. He couldn't ignore a direct question, as hard as it was to enunciate. "Aaah! Thank you! Thank you sir!" 

"It's our pleasure, Eren," Erwin thumbed over his pectoral, nail brushing against his all-too sensitive nipple. He moaned, rutting against the blond's thigh. Levi rolled his eyes and smacked the spot he had just been gripping. "I think you ought to be fucking grateful for all this attention." That too brought about a moan, Eren quickening his speed and reaching to no avail for both men's lengths. Levi returned to tonguing him loose and Erwin held him fast. The young man accepted the tender currency of seduction as well as the harsh: soft bills and hard coins, orchids and gemstones. 

"Eren..." Erwin leaned close to his ear, holding him by the back of the neck. "Tell Levi what you want." 

"Auhh... I want y... I w... f-fuck me, fuck me, o-oh my god, fuck me, please!" 

"I know you can ask nicer than that, baby." Levi's tongue was at least an inch deep in him, Erwin's steady voice filling his head. Eren almost sobbed. "Please, sir, I need you to fuck me, I _need_ it!" 

Levi chuckled. "Lube?" Erwin directed him to the bedside table drawer, which struck Levi as an underwhelming place to keep one's sexual effects-- though the lubricant itself was peach flavored and thick enough not to drip on the executive chef's satin sheets, thereby redeeming it in his eyes-- and he was quick to obtain it, coat his fingers, and begin the real work of opening Eren up. 

Erwin eased the brunet onto his hands and knees so he was arranged at the level of his own untouched cock, thighs leaned back inexorably against Levi's intruding fingers. Eren lay his cheek on Erwin's inner thigh, panting heavily. A drop of drool slid out of his mouth and down Erwin's bare skin. 

"One more time, pup." Levi pinched the pink of his ass. He knew the drill by now. Dragging a thin breath into his nose, Eren begged unabashedly, "please, sir, please fuck me, plea--" Levi's fingers withdrew and he had to interrupt his pleading with a whine, "please! please fuck me-eeeee!" His cry broke as he finally felt Levi lining himself up. The raven-haired man pushed in quickly, slamming hard against Eren's sweet spot. He screamed in pleasure. His face broke apart into pieces-- an open, soft mouth, shadowed emerald eyes, a drawn set of cheeks-- as beautifully as if he had found enlightenment. Erwin shoved his tartan briefs down and made Eren look him in the eyes. 

"Do you want this too?" he stroked his hair. 

"Yes, yes, yes, I do, I w--" Eren's babbling dimmed as he got what he asked for, his already abused throat taking his cream-colored cock gratefully. He realized with a heaving, joyous cry that he was pinned between the other two by two burning, driving points, as if his body were a sheet on a line, corn on the cob, a roast on a spit. He rocked forward and back without abandon, relaxing his throat so that Erwin's cock hit the back of it with every thrust on Levi's end. Tears began to stream down his face. Both of the older men were starting to dissolve too, their shared use of Eren's holes adding a layer of seeming degeneracy, seediness, pornography to the experience-- neither of them could resist it. 

But the thing that was happening between the three of them was far from degenerating. It was a more perfect desire than any of them had felt: the touch, the interest, the sincere desire for everyone to reach climax, their bodies so different, their experiences mapping three utterly unique worlds. Levi reached forward and began to pump Eren in time with their thrusts, and as their voices joined in a ragged angelic chorus of gasping, moaning, dry and wet breath alike, cool puffs from Eren's nose in Erwin's golden mane of pubic hair, warm grunts from the corners of Levi's mouth, steady tepid heaving breaths from Erwin, it truly seemed as though they might all orgasm at the same time. 

Then Levi's voice piped up, smaller than usual. "Erwin... fuck. Can I cum now?" 

The seriousness with which he had taken Erwin's earlier edict was the final blow for the tall man. Hips bolted forward to chase the sharp tip of climax and over his own needy movement, the word 'yes' echoed like a penny in a dry well. Levi's own waters sprung from a place not as deep and far more warm than any mountain spring. He came hard, pulling out just in time to slick the interior of Eren's ass with sugar-bright confection. Finally, filled from both ends like a tricky profiterole, the fit young man between them started to shudder as he struggled to swallow. Quick, somehow quicker than Levi, Erwin pulled Eren upright by his hair and was gone down-- pulling his orgasm out of him like a riled sail ripping in the wind. He flopped back into Levi's lap, eyes shut, and Erwin followed him with his throat bobbing. The taste of his relief was exquisite. 

Last to move, first to break the stillness, Erwin flopped to the side. Eren climbed over him and sank down on half of his heaving chest, resting the flat of his palm on his heart; he held the farmer's son closer to him, his side pressed to the interior of his elbow. Levi watched them both for a beat, before Erwin opened and closed his hand-- come here. Levi mirrored Eren's position on Erwin's other side and shut his eyes tightly. 

Both his and Erwin's undergarments were still rucked down, and all three of them had red flowers blooming on their necks and shoulders. Twined in ribbon and set askant in a crystal vase, dogwood tree blossoms in full burst, carnations dyed sunrise oranges, early morning purples, to set the table for a Saturday brunch with no shortage of warm, buttery biscuits, shrimp made burgundy and bursting with heat and seasoning, sensuous red beans, the erotic curve of bell peppers, the straightforward sexuality of sausage, that mysterious coil that hangs above cups of coffee like a darling finger. They fell asleep on top of the sheets feeling more than satisfied. They felt full.


	5. after dinner mint

They slept syrupy tangled in each others' arms. It may not have been a restful sleep, frequent wakings leading to revived touching and sloppy kisses. At some point the blankets wrapped around them, warming the skin that was free from contact. They were entwined in body and mind, sharing a dreamscape of sunlight on water and budding seafruit reaching towards the sky. When one of them broke the surface, they awoke to the intimate warmth of their lovers, the blue darkness of Erwin's room, the elusive scent of everything that they'd done together, and they would slip back under.

Even when a few beams of sun began to hit their snoozing bodies, they weren't stirred. But those first rays of morning light were, unfortunately, accompanied by the ever-punctual chef's alarm clock that Erwin set for six thirty in the morning. It pierced into the soft bubble of sleep. His shoulders rose without consciousness, responding to the sting of the alarm like a Romero extra in tattered grave clothes. But they were inevitably dragged back as the weight of Eren and Levi's sleepy bodies swarmed him, and he forced himself to open his eyes wider. _Wake up._

"... No way…" Eren groaned against Erwin's underarm, as if he could hear the man's thoughts. 

"Took… mmm… words out… my mouth." Levi's arm lashed out to locate the offending noise. His fingers closed around Erwin's buzzing phone and silenced it. "Fuck this." 

"You'll feel better once I make coffee," Erwin's voice, thick with sleep. He tried once again to sit up, this time pushing Eren and Levi to the side. They groaned and sought out each other's arms once Erwin was gone. He stood alongside the bed and cracked his fingers, smiling fondly at the two rising, falling bodies fighting to return to the comfort of slumber together. Before padding back out to his kitchen to heat the water and retrieve his chemex from the cabinet, he pressed a small kiss to each of their foreheads. 

Erwin had always thought that kitchens were at their most romantic in the morning, but in these particular early lights, after that particular night, he felt he had to amend that philosophy. His own kitchen was bathed in a silky blue glow. His hourglass shaped coffee maker caught the sun like a prism and threw a womanly spotlight on the counter. But what was most romantic about fetching his chicory coffee and his antique sugar bowl, what truly stirred his heart when he turned on his stovetop kettle, was the three mugs he selected and the thought of the people they were going to. 

Once he returned, carrying the cups of steaming, perfect coffee, two in his right and one in his left, he noticed straightaway that the lazy vibrations of this morning's cozy pile had shifted. Levi was sitting upright on his knees next to Eren, touching his back without passion. His movements were medical, precise, two of his fingers resting on the spot between his spine and the sloping bottom of his scapula. 

"... that better?" The raven-haired man nudged his shoulder blade. Eren made an agonized sound, his back crinkling like paper. He nearly punctured the pillow he held in his hands with his nails. "Ah! Ahh… mmfm… it's just like. Fuck. So sensitive." 

"Down here too, huh?" Levi made eye contact with Erwin, his fingers gently probing the silken patch of skin beneath the swell his ass, just shy of his thighs. 

Eren's breath caught and he nodded numbly. "I really liked it though! I wanted you to do it this hard… it just… " 

Erwin hmm-ed, setting the mugs on the bedside table with a soft, full clunk. "Sore muscles?" 

Twisting like a hose, Eren pulled his shoulder beneath him so he could look up at the chef. "Yeah… it's okay, though, I can handle it." Eren's physique couldn't only be accounted for by farmwork, gruelling as some tasks could be. He obviously worked out. Admittedly, this level of soreness-- something that thin pho sheets of Wagyu or Kobe would sympathize with, had they been able to wake up the morning following their tenderizing-- was far worse than any post-hike stiffness he'd ever had. 

"There's no question of if you can handle it," Erwin said fondly, "but it's notable that the best relief for sore muscles is ice. We've got a cooler full of it." 

"You mean take me to the restaurant? All day? No way we'd get away with something that fun!" Eren laughed, reaching out for the coffee. As his fingers stretched for the handle, Levi reached up and squeezed his lower back. Eren's arm dropped instantly and he tossed his head back in a pained moan. 

"Did you see that?" Levi asked Erwin. His voice was back to its usual stony evenness, but his eyes glinted. "The poor thing couldn't even pick up a cup." 

The chef smiled despite himself and sat down on the mattress, crossing one leg over the other and picking up Eren's cup for him. "Mmhm. That practically constitutes a medical emergency." He passed it to the light-haired young man. 

"You see, Eren? It would be irresponsible of us to leave you on your own." Levi's hand caressed the side of Eren's thigh. He accepted the mug in both hands and taking a tentative sip. "Mmm…" he sighed contentedly, savoring it. Erwin perked up. 

"Sounds like my hands are tied, _sirs_ ," Eren shrugged and took another sip, shutting his eyes this time so that he could relish the way the warm liquid felt on his throat. "When do you have to be there?" 

Erwin raised his arms above his head and stretched his back with a throaty groan. "Nine at the latest." 

Both Eren and Levi watched their bare-assed lover's muscles define themselves in this new position, their mouths going dry. "Nine," Levi repeated, casting his eyes around for a clock. "Eren, you lie back and watch. I have to have a brief word with our chef." He dismounted, crawling over to Erwin with a hungry look. The blond laughed and let him climb into his lap. From there, Levi broke his fast with Erwin's skin; the head chef was grateful after all was said and done that he had taken the time to make coffee.

* * *

They were all a little sorer by the time they got to the back entrance of SINA, the Nissan Titan purring under Levi's capable hands. Eren had lay flat in the back, at their joint insistence; he'd watched the faces of looming buildings through the car window, looking down at him, as the two chefs briefly tackled their day's plans. It was strange to be to the side, just listening, after everything they had done together. But in many ways it was peaceful. A break. He set his hands behind the back of his head, like he was lazing on a grassy hill, and let the sounds of their voices, the early morning radio, rush around him like prairie grass. 

It was early to say, but he dared feel a little in love.

The three of them proceeded into the quiet kitchen. The only other occupant was a short head of full blonde hair, whistling as she laminated her dough. 

"Good morning, Chef!" she waved to Erwin, the gesture faltering minutely when she noticed the errant red marks on all three of their throats. "Morning, Christa." Erwin smiled politely and returned the wave as he unlocked his office door. She paused mid-roll. "Looks like you all had a nice night!" 

"Tch, what gave it away?" Levi rolled his head back, scratching one of his hickeys absent-mindedly. Christa laughed and turned back to her dough. 

Eren turned tomato red-- he couldn't believe how cool Levi and Erwin were being. Once he was inside the safety of Erwin's office-- minimalist and clean, the most luxurious piece of furniture was a long suede couch, which Levi helped Eren lie face down on. He folded his hands beneath his chin with a soft groan, the place between his shoulders stretching uncomfortably. "Levi, would you get a few bags of ice?" Erwin's expression was wrinkled with concern. He reached out to touch Eren's back as the sous-chef departed. "Apologies for getting carried away, love." 

Any amount of pain was worth it to be called _that_ by _him_. Eren lifted his tailbone and set it back down. "The way I see it… it's just like the hickeys." He turned his neck with a slight cringe so he could meet Erwin's oceanic eyes. "Every time I feel the pain, it's like a little reminder of you and… what we did." His expression was shy, eyes downcast-- though each word rang sincere. 

Jesus fucking Christ-- a reminder of him. Erwin couldn't think of anything to say that'd top that, so he threaded his fingers through Eren's dark hair and pulled him up for a rough kiss that sent shocks and sparks all the way down to the younger man's toes. They broke apart instinctually as the door clicked open, both feeling a little foolish about their urgency to conceal a simple kiss in the face of their third lover. Levi smirked. "Well, well, well.." He shut the door behind him, his smile not dropping. His good-naturedness this morning had to be due to the sex, Erwin decided. He'd never seen Levi so perpetually amused, so friendly with their patissier, so easy-- even with him. 

The raven-haired man nestled two bags of ice, both snowily towelled in white handcloths, between Eren's shoulder blades and the bottom of his spine. "This oughta help." He regarded Erwin, that sweet satisfaction backlighting his eyes. "I'll need to change into my spare uniform, then we can get started on prep." The head chef nodded. Levi was better at staying on track than him, it seemed. He bent over, his small stature shadowing Eren as he planted a kiss on the top of his head. "Can you stay here like a good boy, Eren?" 

Eren whined. "You'll both be back, right?" 

Erwin patted his hair. "In no time at all."

* * *

It was somewhat entertaining to be in Erwin's office. It allowed Eren a small peek into his day to day life, and the couch was comfortable, and he liked hearing the slap of sheet metal, the rapid-fire cut of knives from beyond the windowed door. Still, Eren was not patient at heart. He was itching to get up and stretch his numbed back-- not to mention the ice had started to melt and condensate on the outside of the bags and it was wetting the back of Eren's nicest shirt. 

Unsure of how much time had passed, he shifted off of the couch and slid the ice bags off his back Sitting up still made his shoulders ache, but a little less so. He stretched his neck and set the bags on the ground on top of the towels, before realizing that wouldn't be an adequate method of disposal. Water would get all over the carpet! There had to be somewhere he could get rid of ice around here, right? It was a kitchen. 

He picked up the bags and stood up, wobbling a little. Fuck, he still hurt. Maybe it would be smarter for him to wait for Erwin or Levi to come back, though what if that came across as dependent-- or needy? Eren thought it was nice enough to be hanging out at their work and he didn't want to test the bounds of such a new relationship. Besides, he'd been through the kitchen a few times by now. He'd identified a large steel door as the entrance to the walk-in fridge, which he knew would probably be unoccupied _and_ have a drain in it. He'd just be quick about it, Eren decided, and slipped out the door of Erwin's office. 

Erwin and Levi were struggling not to rush their prep, especially in such close proximity. It was all too easy to let their thighs, their knuckles brush together as they stood side-by-side, passed one another. Irresistible to watch how the other's hands moved with effortless experience. They both fought the urge to bask, eventually resorting to standing at two separate prep tables. Back to back. 

And it was Erwin's table that faced the walk-in fridge, so when he looked up from his rose-shaped garnishes he was able to see Eren's now-intimately familiar silhouette disappear behind the door. He curled his tongue in his mouth, suppressing the instinct to call out the other's name. There was a far more elegant, discreet way to handle the situation. 

"Levi?" 

"Yes, Chef?" Levi slid a knife across a whetstone with both hands, the metal chiming with sharpness as it slid off the rock. 

"I need cabbage from the walk-in." 

Levi gave Erwin an assessing look-- he was in the middle of a task that the chef had set out for him-- and waited for a confirming nod from the head chef-- yes, that's what I want-- before he complied. There was something in the most senior staff member's attitude, something that didn't quite seem like his usual way of casually dispensing orders. Levi supposed it was an uncharacteristic playfulness. When he opened the door of the fridge, he realized it was no such thing.

Eren stood looking caught, his hands on his biceps, shivering between the shelves of cheese and fruit and veg. Levi couldn't help but compare him to the foodstuff. He looked at Eren hungrily, shutting the door behind him. 

"Damn, I was just leaving," Eren rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I didn't want to bother you and--" he was cut off as Levi advanced on him, gripping his shoulders and pressing him back against the shelving. 

"I thought I told you to stay there and be good," Levi's voice was suddenly low and dangerous. Eren stared at him, not moving a muscle. He'd really fucked up, hadn't he? His face shook slightly with the effort not to split into emotion. "I had to, otherwise the ice would've melted everywhere." he said, calm as he could. Levi's hands softened on his shoulders. 

"No excuses. I've got to teach you a lesson, brat." He leaned in closely. His tone was still deep, threatening, but his breath was warm and soft. His touch was light, stabilizing. How nice it had been to surrender to both of them the night before. Was Levi suggesting they could do that again, _here_ , in the walk-in fridge of a gourmet restaurant? 

Levi squeezed Eren's arm and watched his reaction closely for discomfort. The expression that blazed back at him that was decidedly willing. Eren bit his lip. He was seconds away from batting his eyelashes, and he said, "I think you're right, sir. I-I do need to be punished." Only once did he stumble from embarrassment; he was getting the hang of this, he thought brightly. 

Levi nodded, maintaining seriousness. "Turn around." 

Eren did as he was told, coming eye to eye with a case of pomegranates. Levi took his wrists and pushed them up. "Above your head. Touch the shelf." His shoulders screamed as he followed the shorter's instructions, curling his nails between the metal bars and drawing his back tight. He stifled a whimper.

Levi stood close behind him and reached his hands around to Eren's chest. He undid the top button on his collar. 

"How long-- am I gonna stay like this?" Eren panted. 

"As long as I say, Eren. I know you can do it." He continued to pop open his shirt, exposing Eren's skin to the chill of the fridge. His chest was peaking. At the same time, Levi was pressing harder against him from behind. He could feel his arousal against the sensitized skin on his ass, and in this position, couldn't do anything but lean into it. Heat bloomed between his legs at the same time the cold pinched his upper body. 

Eren moaned. Levi reached his cool hands beneath the hem of his shirt and rested them on either of the brunet's sore shoulder blades. He kissed the back of his neck. "Already found a way to enjoy yourself, hm?" 

The door clicked open. Both of them jumped away from the shelves, Eren jumping to cover up the bare swath of his chest. 

Erwin's large silhouette blocked out the light from the kitchen. The walk-in was dim, almost romantically lit. He nearly froze at the sight of his lovers, standing caught in the middle of this slight power exchange-- this display of dominance on Levi's part, and the way it had flowered so naturally from nothing more than their closeness. From being sent into the same quiet, dim room. Like a chemical reaction, once one thing was added to another the effects were unstoppable. An emulsification. It occurred to them all-- how plainly and naturally they touched, traded positions, took care. They were all in awe of the sublime of their attraction to each other; only Eren was made impatient by it. 

"Levi's... teaching me a lesson," he pressed his lips together and shivered slightly, prompting Erwin to walk over and gather him into his uniformed arms. Levi looked up at Erwin wryly. "It would go faster with both of us," he suggested, dragging Eren back over to him by his belt loop. "Did I say you could stop?" 

The brunet laughed excitedly, high and breathless-- why did he find the shorter man's presumptuous authority so damn attractive? He turned around and painstakingly replaced his hands onto the shelf, his lean frame pulled like a piece of caramel between the lazy cylindrical gears of a vintage taffy machine: sweet and strained. 

"Interesting proposal," Erwin murmured, passing his hand over Eren's thighs. 

"Oh my god. Are we really going to do this?" he asked, his voice edged with too much hoarse desperation to hide. It seemed they were. He shifted. "Um. I don't want to kill the mood, but is this-- hygienic?" 

Levi knocked Eren's legs apart with his foot. "As long as you don't make a mess." 

His breath hitched. "Do you mean I-- I can't cum?" 

"Jesus," Erwin finally joined Eren where he was drawn like grapes on their promiscuous, writhing vines, his frame taut against the shelving. He smiled knowingly and put a hand on his lower back. "You want that, don't you?" He looked over to Levi. His eyes were sparkling. 

"Yeah," Eren groaned, "I want you to decide when a-and... I want you to edge me... fuck, oh my God." Levi's hand slid beneath the inseam of his corduroys and cupped Eren's arousal. It seemed to fill his hand as if they were made to fit together. Shit, Eren thought: I forgot my boxers at Erwin's. 

Not that anything would have prevented Levi's talented palm from massaging pleasurable, rocking shocks, delicious tremors that shook the back of Eren's thighs, through the lined fabric of his pants. Erwin leaned up against the shelf with one arm to observe the boy shaking at his breast. Eren's muscles quivered with the effort to keep his hands above his head. He swallowed a whimper, reminding himself with a little shiver that this was his _punishment_ : to be stirred beyond his stiffest peaks without the knowledge of approaching relief. It made him want to struggle, buck his hips against the teasing touch-- whether to get closer or farther he wasn't sure. It made him chase his pleasure in a circle. And when he felt Erwin's hand join Levi's, undoing his pants and sliding beneath his waistband, everything seemed to go white. His calculations of fighting, resisting, how much to push, whether to play the brat or the willing submissive, dissipated into a sweet hum in the back of his mind. 

"Please!" he heard himself call out. Levi's free arm wound around his shoulder and clapped a hand to his open mouth. The humidity swelled against his palm. "We'll tell you when." Levi's voice was rough. His forehead was pressed between Eren's shoulder blades, eyes shut in concentration. Erwin watched them both with a kind of morbid observation, as if he was unable or unwilling to shut his eyes and melt with them-- as if he had to behold Eren, behold Levi, as if he were in danger of losing both of them. 

If only Levi or Eren noticed the depth of Erwin's gaze, how he scaled their clothed bodies like holy mountains with a blue so blue not even a star could imitate it. Eventually, he shut his eyes. 

They slowed the pace of their stroking at the same time, as if instinctually, when Eren's shuddering grew violent and his every breath came out as a moan. They had established Eren's baseline. Now they abused this knowledge, working in tandem to bring him right to the tip of the nib of the edge of the point of orgasm-- and then drawing back together, letting him vocalize his agony into Levi's palm. The cool air of the walk in began to raise prickles on Erwin and Levi's skin-- but Eren was awash in warmth, his arms numb, his shoulders immobile. He rocked towards an unimaginable precipice and then fell back from it into the cruelly comforting arms of his lovers. 

Erwin detected that Eren was reaching his limit. He withdrew his hand completely. "Levi," he ordered softly, "turn him around." The sous chef did as told. He carefully pried Eren's arms from the shelf, rubbing his muscles as he turned him to rest at a slight incline against the shelving unit. Erwin dropped to his knees without a second thought; Levi watched with raised eyebrows as his stately knees touched the floor, glad that he had ensured a thorough mop the night before. 

Eren gasped when Erwin put his mouth on the exposed triangle of skin between his shirt and pants, then silenced himself with the side of his hand as the man widened this triangle to a strip. His thumbs hooked and dragged his underwear down beneath his tormented arousal. His lips dragged down. Wet heat slicked over Eren's skin and he threw his head back, fingers flexing in and out of fists. 

"I c-can't t-take..." his eyes pleaded with them. Erwin glanced up at Levi ( _your call_ ) before taking Eren's head between his lips. Did he always taste this fucking exquisite? His tongue swirled, eagerly pulling him down his throat.

Levi stood above Erwin's back and caged Eren in. "Okay, pet. It's okay. Take a deep breath." 

Eren struggled to comply with even that, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he faced Erwin's diabolical mouth with oversensitive, flushed skin. He sucked in a stuttering inhale, pushed out a staggered exhale. Levi leaned in close and pressed a kiss to his heated cheek. "Please," he begged, "please..." 

Levi's mouth brushed his ear as he murmured, "alright, Eren... but only because you took it so well." 

Erwin felt the spasm of Eren's thighs before anything else, relaxing his jaw in preparation. Eren came hard and long; Levi had to hold him up by his shoulders as he went limp, whatever strength he had gathered over the day emptying into the blond's mouth. 

"We should really get back to work," Erwin said after an unceremonious swallow, looking up at them both. Eren laughed breathlessly, perhaps even deliriously, at the stern, serious expression on his face. He had no idea how the older man turned it on and off so easily. It was riling him up all over again, seeing him on his knees one moment and perfectly businesslike the next. 

"Okay... just let me catch my breath and I'll," Eren leaned away from the shelves and almost dropped to the ground. Levi snorted. "Sure you will." Erwin rose from the floor to wrap his arm around his waist securely; Levi took his other side, looping the inside of Eren's elbow around his neck. They practically carried him from the fridge back to Erwin's office, the momentary exposure making all of their heads turn to check for prying eyes. Christa was far too busy finishing her work-- no one else was there. 

Still, when Eren had resumed his position on the couch and the door was shut behind them, they all visibly relaxed. Eren sunk back with a contented sigh, and before he knew it, he was slipping into sleep. He felt Erwin's hand on his hair, reassuring. Heard their voices rumble above his head for a minute or two, and the blinds going down. He heard the door open and shut, heard footsteps receding. Erwin's hand was gone and there was nothing but the comforting dimness, into which Eren happily disappeared.

* * *

Time in the kitchen passed much slower after that. 

Erwin and Levi were both heady with desire after their encounter in the walk-in, but their duties took them to opposite ends of the kitchen and, after having added 'edge Eren into oblivion' to their daily tasks, there wasn't time for so much as a blown kiss. Levi fought to ignore the way his hand cupped an especially curvaceous parsnip, rejected any thoughts regarding its pleasing disassembly beneath the quick blade of his knife. The sensuousness of his work had occurred to him before: not only in that it was a profession that catered to the senses, but that the correct handling of ingredients, the grace, the control and wisdom of experts, was as delving into nature as sex. Today, that understanding seemed especially potent. 

He couldn't stop thinking about mouths. Erwin's, with Eren's length slipping inside it. Would he do that for him someday? What would it be like to be tasted by his knowledgeable tongue? A tongue that knew the difference between cayenne and paprika with one deft flick? A tongue that had tried everything. Normally so disciplined with his thoughts, Levi was caught off-guard by his fixation. A flush maintained itself on his skin, his cheeks and neck pinkening and reddening through the next few hours of his day. He didn't even need to look at Erwin again, not when when scenes of the night before kept playing through his head. 

Both of his lovers' strength and affection had staying power; Levi knew even without the pleasure of Erwin's touch, the knowledge that he _could_ have it was enough to satisfy him.

Nonetheless it was gratifying to hear Erwin's office door click open and shut; Levi didn't even realize he had been waiting for it, but once he saw the man's silhouette moving towards his desk behind the blinds, he let go of a breath. It meant they were all the closer to that magic, peaceful hour when the rest of the staff would filter in and begin their preparations, and he and Erwin and Eren could take a break with one another. 

Levi couldn't finish his work soon enough. The cooks began to file in as the afternoon grew, their light chatter and the clap of their work shoes on the tile not nearly enough to draw Levi from his reverie; he finished cleaning his station wordlessly. It was fortunate that no one expected him to greet them, though even if they did, Levi would have been be happy to disappoint. The only people whose opinions mattered were behind the curtained glass of Erwin's office. 

Eren was still asleep on the couch, his nose whistling on every feathery exhale. Erwin sat at his desk, the picture of focus. Yet when Levi opened the door, Eren stirred as if he knew who it was, and Erwin's attention skewed away from his computer. 

"All set for tonight, Chef." Levi closed the door behind him, letting his fingers linger on the surface of the wood as he took in his two lovers. 

"Perfect. What a day, huh?" Erwin leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach. His praise, even a little word like 'perfect', still made Levi melt. A soft snort from Eren's nose as he sat up brought both of their eyes to him. He blinked, dazed-- he was waking up from one lovely dream and entering another. He combed his hands through his mussed hair and yawned. "What time is it?" 

"Time for us to take a much-needed break," Erwin stood up from his desk to stretch. 

"Oh!" Eren's expression brightened, and he looked between the two men eagerly. "How long do we have?" 

Levi exchanged a look with Erwin. "At least two hours…" he said. Though they were all eager and excited to be in this unconventional romantic arrangement, both of them were seasoned professionals. Having kept themselves from indulging all day, the burning desire for one another's bodies had diminished-- and with so many more people in the kitchen, so had the sense of privacy that had allowed them to consummate in the walk-in fridge. They were also several years Eren's senior, giving them an edge when it came to suppressing their libidos. 

Luckily, that didn't seem to be what the young man had in mind. He stood up and cracked his back with a slight wince, before fishing his keys out of his pocket. "Why don't I take you guys up near the farm? Like we were talking about? We can probably catch the sunset, right?" 

Erwin smiled; for a moment, Levi thought he saw the taller man's eyes shine with something much deeper than attraction.

* * *

After a day of resting up, Eren felt good enough to retake his position at his steering wheel. Still tender in places, especially after the revisit to their initial night of passion, he was determined to take his Erwin, his Levi on a drive. And when Eren was determined, nothing stopped him. 

They rode down a long stretch of moody highway, the clouds slowly breaking apart as the day grew long. The sun was doing its exercises before bed, stretching from horizon to horizon in shades of bruised fruit. Levi sat in Eren's passenger seat, one arm hanging out of his open window, his hair flying above his head with an uncharacteristic wildness. His gray eyes watched the landscape rolling outside, passively fascinated in that way only those with a deep connection to the natural could be. As if he knew it inside and out, had personally walked its lengths and felt its depths, and in his excess of knowing had found the most profound kind of love. 

Eren sang along to the radio as he drove one-handed, slapping the side of the car through the window in time to the music-- perfectly in tune with his vehicle, with the sound of the day. And Erwin watched the sky from the backseat. As they got further from the city, it looked all the larger. Broad and open. Infinitely possible. When Erwin looked down, looked towards Levi and Eren, his lovers, his friends, the largeness still remained. 

"Oh! Here!" Eren pulled off suddenly. They were right beside a magnificently still lake. The late October air was crisp as the apples that had already ripened and dropped by now. They dismounted the Titan, for once following Eren's lead, and climbed down the steep roadside-- Levi and Erwin both careful to keep their black pants clear of the soft yellow autumn peat of leaves and grass. Their clamber was vivacious, youthful, to get to the edge of the lake. 

There, Eren took a deep breath and heaved a sigh. "Isn't it nice?" 

The sun glinted off the lake, a color brighter and sharper than silver. The clouds held the red fire of the evening, and Erwin reached out for both Levi and Eren's hands. "Yeah," Levi agreed, not looking at the lake. Their fingers intertwined. Though they would likely have to part now, Levi and Erwin's kitchen duties rising in their minds like boiling water, Eren's time away from home stretching beyond even what his family would allow, they savored the moment. They took it in their hearts and minds. Their tongues turned it over, their eyes probed its details. They made sure they knew it as best as they could before they turned to leave. They made it last.


End file.
